


Great Gotham Bake Off

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baking, Competition, First Kiss, Flirting, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Mayor Oswald Cobblepot organises the first edition of Great Gotham Bake Off (VIP edition). There's a lot of adventures, mishaps and excitement, and even some shameless flirting with Commissioner Gordon. ;) (or the baking competition fic no one asked for!)
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46
Collections: Gobblepot Spring 2020





	Great Gotham Bake Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenfairy13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/gifts).



> Surprise, babes! I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me xD I'm still alive and very much gobblepot trash, but my brain was like "Pandemic? I'm OUTTA here." It got better once I was allowed to work from home, I think I calmed down somewhat.
> 
> Anyway. this story was supposed to be submitted for Gobblepot Week (hence the Valentine's reference). greenfairy13 and myself were watching a lot of baking shows back then and we thought it would be fun to have one set in Gotham. :D Recycling it for the [Spring event](https://gobblepotgazette.tumblr.com/post/615401117498687488/gobblepot-spring-2020) instead. Hope you'll enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to Nekomata58919 for the beta! :)
> 
> Prompt used: Strawberry

"A baking competition."

"What?" The council members all looked up in unison, staring at him as if he'd grown another head. 

"A baking competition," Oswald said more confidently, smiling. 

Since they were still blinking at him dumbly, Oswald huffed an exaggerated sigh. 

"You want something to engage people. Well, baking competitions are very popular with the public. Throw in some of Gotham's VIPs, and you have a great event for February. It's a bleak month." 

"We could do something for Valentine’s Day," one of them piped up, his words dying a painful death under Oswald's withering stare. 

"Miss me with that consumerist crap, Mr Greene." 

"We could have a concert, invite someone romantic like M-" 

"What did I just say?!"

"Baking competition. Sir," the young man added, his Adam's apple moving.

"Good, I'm glad we all agree," Oswald declared with a smile. "Make sure everything is perfect." 

* * *

While organisational issues fell onto the minions to solve, Oswald was in charge of the invitations. Most employees thought he'd be one of the competitors; Oswald politely but firmly declined, and nominated himself as a judge instead. The competitors had to be known figures, famous or infamous.

It was no surprise that Oswald's first thought was Jim. He fit the bill: Commissioner and Gotham's hero, well-known and liked. People were going to love watching him struggle at something, and that crowd included Oswald. The only problem was convincing him to participate.

The rest of the list slowly built up as well: Bruce Wayne was the most obvious choice, but after that Oswald’s ideas halted. Driven by schadenfreude, he added the former mayor, Aubrey James, on there. Although he didn't really want to, he wrote Dr. Thompkins on the piece of paper – people seemed to like her because of the clinic she opened in the Narrows. Associating with her would reflect well on Oswald. 

That seemed like a good list, and Oswald gave the three names to Olivia, his assistant – she could sort them out, but James was going to be his. Well, as in, his to crack, because Jim was a tough nut. To crack. Yes. 

* * *

Oswald had always been proud of his persuasive skills, but he kept putting off asking Jim to participate in the Great Gotham Bake Off (not his first choice of name, but he let the Council win that one. You had to please the peasants from time to time.) He wasn't sure which approach to adopt, but he had a feeling that ordering Jim to participate would backfire.

In the end, Oswald bought a cupcake from the lovely bakery next to City Hall. He'd debated which flavour Jim would like. A fruity one? Maybe something more classic, like red velvet? Would he think that too forward? Finally, Oswald settled for Belgian chocolate with a layer of sour cherry jam and almond brittle. Beauty and indulgence hidden inside an unassuming exterior.

Although Oswald could just waltz into Jim's office anytime – and had done it many times before – he wanted to be irreproachable, so he sent Jim a text about ten minutes prior. Gotta keep him on his toes. 

Jim didn't look surprised when Oswald walked in, but he also didn't look particularly happy. 

"Oswald. Tired of traumatising your minions?"

"No, I just really missed this beautiful office," Oswald said, looking around the sparsely decorated room to make his point.

Jim rolled his eyes, but signalled to Oswald to have a seat. "What do you want?" 

Oswald grinned as he sat down, keeping his hands on his cane. "Help with an event." 

"I'm not going to be the city mascot if that's what you want to ask." 

"Don't be ridiculous, James, I would never hide a face like yours."

Jim arched an eyebrow, but luckily didn't ask Oswald to elaborate on that embarrassing declaration. "So what is it that you want? I don't have the whole day."

Oswald pushed the shiny box with the cupcake onto Jim's desk. "There's a clue for you." 

Jim opened it slowly, suspicion written all over his face. He stared at the cupcake as if he had x-ray vision. "Is it poisoned?" 

"Come on, James. I've just asked for help with an event, why would I poison you?" 

Jim shrugged, as if Oswald's logic wasn't always flawless. Well, perhaps he was right. 

Nevertheless, Jim took the cupcake from the box and bit into it, much to Oswald's delight. Jim's eyelashes fluttered for a second as he was hit with all the flavours, and Oswald knew this was the perfect opportunity to attack Jim with his proposal. 

"Since you're enjoying baked goods so much, how about you create one of your own?" 

Jim looked up. Oh sugar, the distraction didn't work. "In a competition?" Oswald laughed nervously. "In front of the whole city?" 

Jim stared daggers at him, and put down the remaining piece of the cupcake. Oh oh… This wasn't a good sign. Oswald had hoped that the detective would just say yes while under the cupcake's magical influence, but now he was listening and waiting for actual reasons.

"We're testing everyone's baking skills. It's a new requirement," Oswald blurted out. 

Not even a nerve moved on Jim's face. 

"All of Gotham's bakers came down with something, and we're trying to find replacements until they're cured."

Although Jim still hadn't moved, he somehow looked more annoyed. 

"Okay, fine." Oswald rolled his eyes. "Instead of organising a cheesy Valentine’s Day concert, I proposed a baking competition. People don't want roses and cliché songs, they want something interesting. A fight to the death. Figuratively," Oswald hurried to add. 

"And why do you want me to bake?" 

"It's a VIP edition, and you're well known in the city. You would bring in a lot of people who would be curious about your skills." 

Jim leaned against his chair, taking the remaining piece of cupcake. He looked focused on his task of eating it slowly and, dare Oswald say, sensually. The monster even licked frosting off his thumb, Oswald watching the show with parted lips. 

"What do I get from this?" 

"Anything you want," Oswald replied, mesmerised, fidgeting in his seat.

Jim smirked. "Okay, Mr Mayor. I'll keep you to that." 

* * *

Oswald couldn't wait for the event to come soon enough. He'd been fretting the whole time, about the weather, the turnout, but mostly about Jim showing up. Once Saturday rolled in, Oswald got up early. He was excited to see that, although the sky was mostly overcast, it didn't look like it was going to rain. The event had been advertised everywhere, so Oswald had high hopes that many people would come, especially since there would be many food and drink stalls as well. 

Although he didn't technically have to be there until the competition commenced, Oswald wanted to oversee that everything would start on the right foot. Otherwise the council might never allow him to implement new ideas, and he'd have to endure an endless cycle of crap events. 

"Come to spy on the participants?" 

Oswald turned around in record time. “Jim! No spying, just making sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Shame, I thought you could give me some information on what the others are going to do,” Jim said seriously, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

According to Oswald, he always looked good, but there was something about Jim today that just made Oswald’s heart beat extra hard. Perhaps it was the more casual shirt, a grey one that had the last button undone. But it was more than that; just as his clothing, Jim also seemed more casual. Relaxed. A genuine weekend mood where he had left his worries behind. It would have been so easy to give in, but Oswald decided to make the game harder for the Commissioner.

“James, I have to be an impartial judge!"

Jim rolled his eyes, then shoved an apron into Oswald. "At least help me tie this." 

Oswald unfolded it while shaking his head, snorting when he saw the front of the apron said 'Kiss the cook'. "Interesting choice." 

Jim looked back while Oswald tied the apron, then shrugged. "It was the only one left. But if you want to k-”

“No, no, I’m an impartial judge!” Oswald declared a bit too loudly while Jim looked at him with a smug smile. 

“Thanks, Oswald. See you around.”

Oswald left, cheeks burning with something akin to embarrassment. He needed to check on the others as well. Bruce had also arrived, with Mr Pennyworth, of course. He was the only one allowed some assistance, given his young age. Oswald was really looking forward to his creation; he was sure that Alfred would help him bake something delicious.

"Mr. Wayne. Nice to see you again." 

"Mayor Cobblepot. Thank you for inviting me to this event. I hope I'll be up to par with the others." 

"No doubt. I don't think you need to fear anyone else." 

Bruce smiled modestly. "I would never underestimate them."

Oswald was yet again struck by Bruce's maturity. "That's very wise of you, Mr. Wayne. Good luck." 

Lee’s work station – the one furthest from Jim’s, a position not at all coincidental – was still empty. This was partly infuriating, because it looked like a sign of disrespect, but partly lucky as well, since Oswald didn't want to interact with her. 

Finally, there was Aubrey James, who was already talking to a journalist, his boasting making him sound as if he'd already won the competition. What a nasty man! 

Oswald gave him a wide berth, circling back to where his assistant was pacing in circles, a phone clutched to her ear.

"I can't reach Dr. Thompkins, and the show is about to start."

Oswald grimaced. “Keep trying.”

“I could step in instead of the doctor,” Ivy chimed in, suddenly manifested by Oswald’s side.

“Ivy, for the millionth time, this is a celebrity competition!”

“I am a celebrity, though,” she pouted.

“Yeah, I meant in the human world of Gotham, not your jungle. Which is still in my garden, by the way.”

Oswald was in the meantime keeping his eyes on the competition, which had just begun. Ivy was desperately trying to gain his attention.

“Fine. People know I’m associated with you, right?”

Oswald laughed. “And what, you would compete as my annoying little sister?”

“Yes!”

“No, Ivy, I can’t let you embarrass me and the whole City Hall.”

“I won’t, please, Ozzie, please please please!”

“Name the ingredients of a pancake! If you get it right, you can participate.”

"Ha, that's easy!" Ivy exclaimed. "Flour, eggs, uh… eggs, hm…" 

Oswald crossed his arms, waiting expectantly. "Yes, so far you have pasta. What else?" 

"Water? Uh… Syrup! Maple syrup!"

"That's a topping, Ivy. It doesn't go into the batter. See, you're not ready. Come and sit with me and watch the show."

"Okay, I'll just go and get a soda," she said before she disappeared. 

"Incorrigible." Oswald shook his head, then turned back to the competition. 

Ronnie Bolton, the most popular matinee TV host, was the commenter of the event, her cheerful voice bringing in the crowds. 

"Ten minutes in, and our participants are working hard on their cake batter already. Well, except former mayor Aubrey James, who seems to be drawing some kind of graphic and giving an interview… Maybe he'll do a crime stat cake? We don't know, but remember, time is ticking away! Only 2 hours and forty-eight minutes left! Oh, is that Dr. Lee Thompkins I spy over there? The plot thickens, boys!"

Oswald craned his neck to see. Indeed, Lee had stormed in, white coat still on. She looked stressed, but as soon as the cameras were on her, she put on her smile while a crew member helped her with an apron.

He couldn't help it, Oswald sneered a bit, mostly to himself. She’d never struck him as the housewife type, so he hoped she would not win. He’d thought about it before, but Oswald had no idea about the chances of the participants. Young Bruce could be the best candidate, given that he had Alfred who had cooked for him for years. However, cooking was quite an intimate thing, and unless one did it as a job, a proficiency in this skill would rarely become public knowledge. So for all Oswald knew, the former mayor could be a masterchef.

As much as he would have wanted to, Oswald knew Jim had no chance of winning. The man not only did not possess any kind of culinary skills, but his palate had stopped evolving past a teenager’s, since he preferred to live on fast food. But Oswald would really not forgive him if the former mayor managed to create something better than him.

Fortunately, Oswald was soon due to inspect the participants and their progress – maybe he could provide some advice to Jim. He’d also thought about sabotaging the former mayor, but perhaps that wouldn’t be too wise, with all the cameras present.

Suddenly, Oswald noticed a flash of red next to Alfred’s shoulder, quickly moving behind the contestants. He had a feeling of whom that hair belonged to, and his suspicions were confirmed when she finally stopped by the last table, that was somehow magically empty. Oswald got up from his seat, glaring at Ivy who just sent an insolent little wave his way before she started working on something.

“Olivia! What’s Ivy doing over there?”

“Sir?”

“Ivy! By that table, doing what looks to be preparing a batter!”

“Well, you signed her up as a last minute contestant,” Olivia said, becoming more confused.

“I have not!”

“She came to me and said you approved it to boost the ratings with her beauty.”

Oswald spluttered. “Does that sound like anything I’d ever say?”

“She was so convincing…”

“I bet she was…”

Before Oswald could do anything about the Ivy problem, however, he was told that he would need to do a round among the contestants in a minute. Oswald closed his eyes and exhaled. He put on his polite, public figure smile as the cameras focused on him. Ronnie was of course narrating, in case any members of the audience couldn’t see it.

“Mayor Cobblepot, who is the judge of this event, is going to do his first round to check on our lovely contestants, and maybe even give them some advice. "

Oswald got up, smiled and waved at the cheering crowd. He started from the 'bad' side, with Dr. Thompkins first. Even though she had joined late, she was calm and absolutely in control. 

"Lee. How are you doing?"

"Oswald. Thank you, all good. Although I didn't expect to receive an invitation for this."

"Not your kind of thing?" 

Lee grimaced. "A bit too frivolous maybe." 

"Nothing wrong with a bit of fun," Oswald replied, slightly defensive. 

Well, she had definitely rained on his parade, so he finished the chit chat, and moved on. 

Unfortunately, the situation didn't get better, as the next contestant was the former mayor. Oswald forced himself to smile when he approached the table, though it quickly froze onto his face when he saw the mess: countless dirty bowls and flour everywhere, just absolute chaos. 

"Mr. James." Oswald hated that this despicable man shared a name with his favourite officer. 

"Mr Cobblepot." 

"What are you… ah, baking today?" 

Aubrey James pointed towards a drawing on the counter while he hurried to the oven. The moment he opened it, dark smoke escaped. Oswald was secretly rejoicing as the man cursed, throwing the blackened remains on the counter. 

“My City Hall...”

“What?” Oswald asked, confused.

The former mayor pointed towards his graph again. “I wanted to make City Hall out of cake.”

“But you burnt it down. For shame.”

Oswald moved on, shaking his head. Luckily, the annoying section of the participants was behind him now. Bruce was diligently mixing some kind of liquid on the stove, Alfred watching over his shoulder.

“Time to measure the temperature, Master Bruce.”

As Oswald got closer, he could see that Bruce was working on a caramel sauce. He watched, fascinated, as Bruce added the cream, the concoction bubbling up and turning into a beautiful, golden colour.

It was evident that this was not Bruce’s first time in the kitchen – the way he separated eggs and held a knife spoke of a certain experience, and Alfred only had to help with some finer details. Oswald expressed his surprise at Bruce’s skillfulness.

“Thank you, Mayor Cobblepot. I must thank Alfred for teaching me all these techniques.”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in them!”

“A well-rounded young man should be educated in each aspect of life,” Alfred said, and Bruce rolled his eyes with a smile. They had talked and probably disagreed about this quite a few times.

“One may never know what the correct wielding of a pan may achieve.”

Oswald laughed, imagining Alfred eliminating intruders by hitting them on the head with a pancake pan. He caught Jim’s eyes in the process – he must have overheard their conversation because he was smiling as well. It was difficult to concentrate after that.

“Well said, Mr Pennyworth. I see you’re faring well, Mr Wayne, so I won’t be bothering you anymore. Good luck!”

“Thank you.”

Pretending that he wasn’t dying to see what Jim was doing proved to be very difficult, but Oswald somehow managed it. Jim was just checking the oven, and though he rushed to come back, he didn't seem stressed.

"Jim. How's it going?" 

"Alright, I suppose? I've just checked on the cake, it looks good. I'm going to pit these cherries now." 

Oswald was impressed by the relatively clean and clutter-free work top. "Well, everything looks… fine over here." 

"Surprised?" Jim laughed, popping a cherry into his mouth. 

"Maaaybe," Oswald confessed. His eyes were drawn to a tiny red spot on Jim's face, probably a result of his current task. 

"You have a bit of, uh, cherry juice on here," Oswald said, showing the spot on his own cheek.

Jim tried to rub it off, but he was in the wrong place. 

"No, it's the other side. Let me," Oswald said and Jim leaned towards him, patiently waiting as Oswald wiped away the splatter. 

Oswald suddenly realised how close they were, Jim's attention wholly focused on him, his lovely eyes watching him. Oswald forgot his fingers on Jim's cheek, mesmerised by the proximity and the soft way Jim's eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

"Cherries?"

"Wh-oh yes, p-please," Oswald replied, letting go of Jim and picking one from the bowl. "They're not really in season, are they?" 

"No, but I thought fresh ones would be better than compote."

Oswald popped the cherry into his mouth, blushing under Jim’s scrutiny. “Surprisingly sweet. So what are you going to use them for?”

“Cherry sauce for the cake. Unless I mess it up.”

“It’s sugar, water and some cornstarch. You’ll be fine.”

“I thought you’re not supposed to help participants.” Jim’s smirk was blinding.

“I didn’t… I just enumerated random ingredients.” They smiled at each other, then Oswald reluctantly left to check on the last participant. Or rather, intruder.

“Ozzie! Look what I’m making!” 

“A downright mess?” Oswald smiled, but his eyes held irritation. 

“No, pancakes,” Ivy said, flipping one in the pan, just narrowly catching it.

“Why is it so dark? And anyway, you do realise this is a cake competition? That you were not supposed to participate in?”

“It’s a purple pancake! Come on, Ozzie! Don’t be so grumpy!”

“He got the Grump of the Year award three years in a row now,” Jim chimed in with a smirk, making Ivy laugh.

Oswald's lips parted. “I beg to differ! Jim here is a lot grumpier than me!”

Ivy and Jim shook their heads conspiratorially, and Oswald realised he was outnumbered. “Alright… Why is the pancake purple?”

“Because I’m making a rainbow pancake cake! For you! Since you’re g-”

“Alright, I get it now,” Oswald interrupted her loudly, cheeks burning. Jim probably knew,  _ everyone _ knew, really, but he never really broadcast it. “So how did you manage to make the pancakes? Last time we talked you wanted to put maple syrup in the batter.”

“Jim gave me a recipe. He helped a bit too."

Oswald glanced at him, his heart suddenly filled to the brim with affection.

"Will we get in trouble for it?" Ivy was wringing her hands. 

Oswald shook his head. "No, of course not. Careful, your pancake's burning." 

Ivy ran to the stove, managing to salvage the pancake in the last second. "Thanks!" 

Oswald smiled, watched her for a couple more seconds as she started working on a blue pancake. She was a good kid, if annoying at times.

Now that he'd checked on everyone, Oswald could go back to his chair. To his surprise when he returned, there was a whole stack of new aprons on the table. 

"Olivia, have you just brought these?" 

"No, they've been there all morning. I just got extras in case they get dirty. Which I'm sure they will." 

Oswald frowned. "Strange, Jim said the one he took was the last one." 

"The Commissioner was the first one to arrive," Olivia said with the tone of someone who was done.

Oswald stared at the aprons for a few seconds, then broke out in a smile. Jim was a very sneaky man. Oswald got lost in a daydream that might have involved him feeding cherries to Jim, until Ronnie's voice boomed out. 

"Half of your time's up, guys! You'd better have those cakes in the oven or they will never cool down."

Some of the contestants panicked (the former mayor, Oswald noted with satisfaction) and made mistake after mistake, others, like young Bruce, were so far along that they were working on fancy chocolate decorations.

The next half an hour was quite uneventful, except for Ivy cutting her finger. How she managed to do that while theoretically making pancakes was a mystery. Oswald was then called to give a live mini interview for the listeners of Gotham FM. 

By the time he was done, there was less than an hour left. Suddenly, events sped up. Lee, who had been progressing well with her red velvet cake, had set down her utensils while spreading vanilla buttercream onto the first cake. She seemed agitated, so Oswald sent his assistant to check on her. 

She came back a couple of minutes later. "It seems that she was called by her hospital to some emergency." 

"Is there no one else who could attend to it for another hour?" 

Olivia shrugged. "She's quite adamant about it." 

"Well, who am I to stop Saint Lee from performing her miracles?" Oswald rolled his eyes for good measure. "Go and tell Ronnie, please." 

As soon as Olivia relayed the message, it was also announced to the general public, just in time as Lee left the premises. Jim, who had been concentrating on his work, looked up and watched Lee walk away. For a fearful moment, Oswald thought Jim was going to run after her, but he returned to his work, unperturbed.

"Where are my strawberries?" Ivy exclaimed. "They were right here!"

"She'll lose her head one day," Oswald said dismissively at first, but Ivy started panicking badly.

Jim went over to her station, and when Oswald made sure that the Commissioner would be alright taking care of her, Oswald hurried to the backstage, to see if he could find some replacement for Ivy. Poor girl was close to a breakdown, which was definitely not worth it over some fruit. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Oswald noticed some movement. He approached silently, until he could see familiar brown curls, just peeking over a panel. Selina was so busy eating strawberries, that she didn't hear Oswald coming. 

"Are those Ivy's strawberries?" 

Selina's eyes widened. "Oops." 

"She's really upset about their disappearance, you know." 

Selina knew she was in trouble, and tried to argue her way out of it when Aubrey James's voice reached them. "Dammit, who put salt in my chocolate sauce?!" 

This was followed by a lot of expletives, which Ronnie tried to cover with her voice, making both Oswald and Selina giggle. 

"Was that your work too?"

"Yeah?"

Oswald sighed. "Alright, come with me."

Selina was still a tiny bit embarrassed, but she had a feeling that she might still get away unscathed, thanks to her destroying the former mayor's – admittedly small – chances. 

"Look, Ivy. Selina found a few strawberries in the backstage kitchen. Will these be enough?" 

"Oh my gosh, yes. Thank you so much, Cat!" 

Oswald enjoyed watching Ivy almost suffocate Selina with her grateful hugs, she deserved it. 

"It was her, wasn't it? The thief?" Jim whispered, surprising Oswald with his closeness. 

The mayor looked behind his shoulder. "Was it that obvious?" 

"No, but my jar of sugar disappeared at some point, and then I thought I saw her lurking in the back. It wasn't hard putting things together." 

"Still doing detective work even while baking." 

"Can't help it."

They smiled at each other, until Oswald noticed his assistant waving her arm wildly. She tapped her watch impatiently. 

"Apologies, Jim, I need to go on my second round. I'll be back shortly." 

"Looking forward to it." 

"There's less than thirty minutes to go, and Mayor Cobblepot has just started his last round," Ronnie announced. "First up is former mayor Aubrey James, who's encountered several issues during the competition. He looks quite tired and… defeated. Burnt cake and then a cream ruined with salt, guess that can do a man in."

Although Oswald was no saint, he felt pity for his former opponent. He couldn't mention Selina messing with him without upsetting others, and the trash newspapers picking it up as a plot of his to have his favourite win, or some other ludicrous idea. He assured Aubrey that he was sure he'd done his best, and then moved on to Bruce. 

There was no doubt in Oswald's mind about the winner. His jaw might have dropped just a bit upon laying his eyes on Bruce's cake. It seemed to be a classic Victoria sponge – a nod to Albert's homeland, but an upgraded version. It had two layers of cream and jam, and the decorations were inspired by a master patissier. There were chocolate swirls and a caramel dome and strawberries cut in the shape of roses. 

"Well, I now know whom to hire for my next birthday." 

"It's not too difficult," Bruce said humbly. "Just following instructions." 

"This goes beyond that, young man. You would definitely be successful if you opened a bakery. Look at that caramel dome!" 

Alfred ruffled Bruce's hair with a laugh. "Fancy imagining you opening a posh place, eh? Ten bucks for a chocolate éclair!" 

"If it tastes as good as it looks, then it's worth it," Oswald added with a smile.

Bruce laughed politely, then excused himself to go and place the cake in the fridge.

Oswald moved on to Jim, who was just adding the cherry sauce on top of his cake. 

"How did the sauce come out?" 

"Quite nice. Thank you for the tip," Jim said, holding up the spoon. "Would you like to try?" 

"Oh… " Oswald looked around, cheeks blushing. "Alright then."

Oswald leaned in as Jim offered him the spoon, fingers gently wrapping around his bare arm. He was not sure what to expect, but as soon as the sauce touched his tongue, he closed his eyes. It was sweet and sour, perfectly balanced, but then something else hit him. 

"Jim, oh!"

"Surprised it's edible, huh?"

"I, god, maybe." They both laughed. 

"You like it?" 

The hopeful look on Jim's face was enough to knock Oswald out, so he inadvertently tightened his hold around Jim's wrist. "Yes, what's that in it? It's so familiar, but I can't place it. Is it some kind of liqueur?"

"Yes. A splash of Amaretto." 

"That's brilliant! So good. Explains the taste of almonds." 

Oswald had to have another spoonful, not just because it was so delicious, but Jim got a certain spark in his eyes while watching Oswald eat, and he wanted to prolong it.

"Thank you, Jim. That was delicious." 

Brazenly, Oswald licked a drop of the sauce from his index finger, perhaps putting on a show just a tiny bit. He was rewarded with Jim's cheeks turning the colour of cherries.

Oswald would have loved to stay more and tease Jim, but he had to move on. Ivy was stacking her pancakes while humming, her distress gone. 

"Everything fine now?" 

"Yes, Ozzie! So lucky that you ran into Cat, otherwise I wouldn't be able to finish the cake." 

"Where is she now?" Oswald looked around suspiciously, half expecting another prank to happen. 

"Oh, I don't know. But I saw her talk to Bruce at some point." 

Before Oswald could investigate further, he was whisked away by his assistant for another 'exclusive' interview. He would have been eager to see the competitors finish their cakes, but the interviewer had too many questions. He was released just in time to perform his role as judge of the competition.

Aubrey James's cake was a disaster. There was no other way to describe it politely. It was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time and the filling was oozing out. The Gotham skyline the former mayor had planned was nowhere to be seen, unless he meant this is a war torn city scape. Oswald took a safe bit with his fork, one that he hoped would not give him food poisoning. He definitely deserved an Oscar for not grimacing and spitting it out on the spot. 

"Quite unfortunate about the accidents. I'm sure it would have been better." 

Oswald stepped to Bruce's desk. The cake was gorgeous. "It's almost too pretty to cut," he murmured as the knife slid easily between the layers of cake, jam and cream. The taste didn't disappoint, it was just as good as it looked.

"What do you think?" Bruce asked, the only hint of nervousness in his eyes. 

"I'd seriously think about opening that bakery. It's  _ so _ good." 

Bruce smiled, humbled. "Thank you." 

Oswald could have eaten half of the cake in one go, but had to leave it there. Jim and Ivy were waiting for him, and seeing their excited faces made Oswald smile. These two were his favourite humans to be around, despite their differences. 

The first stop was by Jim's work station. His cake was covered with chocolate, and decorated with cherries and almond flakes. It looked a bit simple perhaps, but it was already a lot more than Oswald had expected.

"I must admit you really surprised me, Jim," Oswald said as he cut the cake to reveal the nice layer of cherry inside. 

"You thought I'd flop, didn't you?" Jim laughed. 

"Oh no, not flop, you're a very resourceful man. But actually managing something this nice, well… yes, quite a surprise." 

"I may have watched baking shows in preparation." 

Oswald smiled at the reveal, then finally tasted the cake. It was nice, though the cake could have been more moist, but the overall result was quite good. There was something about it that was familiar, but Oswald couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

"Your effort paid off, Jim. This is a good, solid cake."

Jim's smile, shy then more confident, made Oswald's knees weak. 

"I'm going to need that cherry sauce recipe, James."

"Yes, Mr. Mayor. At your service." 

Oswald thought he couldn't blush more, only for Jim to wink at him and smile cheekily, effectively obliterating Oswald's speaking abilities. He stumbled to Ivy's desk in a daze, hoping he didn't look as starstruck as he felt. 

"Ozzie! Hurry up, I want you to cut the cake already!" 

Oswald shook his head but smiled as he revealed the rainbow inside. It definitely seemed to please the crowd, many clapping at Ivy's impressive performance. Of course she was glowing in the spotlight.

Oswald proceeded to try a piece and was surprised by how fluffy the pancake was. Ivy was waiting for his judgment with her hands over her mouth. 

"It's the best pancake cake I've ever had." 

"Aww, Ozzie!" Ivy put her arms around Oswald and kissed his cheek. Oswald huffed and patted her back awkwardly, but didn't try to escape from her. 

Finally, it was time to announce the winner of the competition. Oswald went to the centre of the stage where the microphone was. 

"Thank you to you all for coming today to our first event of this kind. I am happy to say that our esteemed guests are all talented and creative. However, there's one contestant who really shone in this challenge. I think it's not a surprise to anyone that Mr Bruce Wayne is the winner of the Great Gotham Bake Off."

Oswald gave the trophy to Bruce and shook hands with him, until every reporter got their right shot for next day's front page. After that, Oswald wanted to talk to Jim; they had caught each other's eyes, but Oswald was assaulted by cameras and journalists. He hoped Jim saw his apologetic look. 

It took over an hour to answer every question and finish posing for every camera. Oswald enjoyed this side of the mayoral position too, but sometimes it became overwhelming. Finally, when the last camera was gone as well, he could let his public persona slip away. 

He looked around, but Jim was nowhere to be seen. Of course, he didn't expect the Commissioner to wait around for him. Oswald said goodbye to his assistant and sent a message to his driver as he walked to the backstage. 

When Oswald looked up, Jim was there, sitting on a bench. Waiting for him. Oswald let the flare of emotion burn in his chest, but just a little _. Jim had waited for him. _ He smiled and Jim offered him a seat next to him, which he took gratefully after standing for so long for the interviews.

"I thought you went home."

"Oh and risk your wrath for having disappeared without giving you the recipe?" 

Oswald laughed, then looked at Jim's hand resting on the bench between them. It was time to be brave, he thought as his fingers grazed Jim's. 

"You know I would find you anyway." 

A hint of surprise passed over Jim's expression at Oswald's touch, but he welcomed it. 

"Yes."

His eyes watched Oswald's lips, and he got closer. "May I?" Jim's voice was so soft and his asking for permission made Oswald love him even more. He nodded and met Jim's lips gently, followed his lead and opened up. The moment Jim's tongue touched his, Oswald's mind – which had been ardently searching for that thing – finally made the connection. The cherries and almonds, oh, how had he missed that before? 

"Hmmph," Oswald let out a mix of surprised grunt and moan, smiling against Jim's lips. 

"I've just realised, you recreated the cake I gave you. Jim…" 

It was funny and sweet to see Jim caught being sentimental. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, but the cake you brought me was the best I've ever had. So I hoped you'd like it. " 

Oswald stroked his cheek, taking in Jim's beauty, the way his hair fell over his forehead and his pretty blue eyes. 

"Come here," Oswald whispered and Jim put his arms around him, kissing him like he was the best thing he'd ever seen. 

They had been at it for some good minutes, Oswald's fingers now combing through Jim's hair, when there was a rustling sound and someone cleared their throat. They both ignored it, too involved with the other's lips. 

"Ehm, excuse me." 

They both recognised the voice, and grudgingly broke the kiss, but there couldn't be anything wrong when Jim had his arm around him like that. Oswald finally turned towards their interruptor. "Yes, Ivy?"

"I was just wondering when we were going home. Look, I saved you a piece of my cake," She held up a plate with the rainbow pancakes. 

"Uhh." Oswald glanced at Jim, unwilling to part from him yet. 

"Mr Gordon could come with us," Ivy offered. "Olga said she'd make chicken noodle soup and goulash for lunch." 

Oswald smiled gratefully, then turned to Jim. "Would you like to join us?" 

"I'd love to." 

Jim took Oswald's hand and they walked behind Ivy, listening to her prattle on about the competition and how she even gave an interview to a TV channel. Somehow everything was right and Oswald squeezed Jim's hand, who squeezed back. 

Jim's smile was truly the cherry on the cake. 


End file.
